Project Daedalus- d20 Modern

[DanMcS]

We weren't having any luck tracking down the elf. With no line on the bike and no way to accurately describe him to police, it was basically a crapshoot anyway. We'll find him someday.

Wolfgang had told us he was kicked out of the army when he and his squad ran into some wierd critters while on patrol. He and another guy refused to admit it was just "post-traumatic stress", so they got medical discharges for being whackos or something. A couple of days into our hunt for the elf, Wolf tells us his buddy was coming into town.

This guy has been out west hunting shadow critters for a couple of years, and now he says he's tracked a bunch to central Ohio. Werewolves. This put the cache of silver bullets we found at the kidnapper's place in a whole new light.

Juan showed up, looking very psycho-ex-military in his fatigues and heavily modified van. The resemblance between he and Wolfgang in that regard was a little telling.

Wolf, Juan, and Mason went to scout some of the outlying parks near Columbus, and check police and park ranger reports for mauled animals or hikers.

***

Meanwhile, Isaac was off on some personal business. He had received a call a couple of weeks ago from a reporter, one Vallenne Malaterre. She was doing a story on his recently deceased colleague, Clayton McKendrick. McKendrick's daughter, Jenny, gave Isaac a call, and said that she had also been contacted by this reporter. Isaac was suspicious of Malaterre, and agreed to meet Jenny for dinner to sort this out.

It turns out he had good reason to be suspicious. Over dinner, it was revealed that Malaterre, while evidently a legit reporter, had grilled Jenny about her father's old collection, including various rare and occult books no reporter had business naming.

Isaac walked Jenny back to her car, planning to call the team and find what we could dig up on this reporter; she was still in town. Maybe we'll drop in and interview her. Isaac's plotting was interrupted when a half-dozen hulking wolfmen raced across the dusk-draped avenue and attacked the pair. A couple grappled the girl, the rest snapped and clawed at Isaac. He was unarmed, but tried to duck, weave, and trip the monsters to get to his car and get a gun. He was bleeding from several claw-gashes, and a massive hairy fist to the back of his head sent Isaac sprawling into darkness.

 

[DanMcS]

Wolfgang and Mason perched in Juan's van, peering out the windows as they coasted through night-shrouded Sharon Woods. They'd seen naught but deer all night, and even a call to Mason's police contacts revealed no brutal murder/maulings to speak of.

"It's not like the skin changers are low profile," Juan mused. "There should have been something, local murders, cattle mutilations, just an increase in sightings of wolves or wild dogs. But not a peep."

Mason's phone chirped. "Hey, Isaac... I see. You're alright?... OK, we'll head down that way."

"What was that?"

"A peep."

***

Isaac had awakened to find a pair of cops kneeling over him. Their smelling salts snapped him to consciousness, and he scrabbled backward before realizing these men weren't snarling.

He had stammered something to them about slipping on the ice and hitting his head, and they finally left after admonishing him to visit a doctor in the morning.

He held clenched in his fist the whole time, he knew not what, but it hadn't been there when he was beaten into unconsciousness. He read it then hit speed-dial for Mason.

***

My dearest Isaac,

It has come to my attention that you have something I want, and now we will make a trade. The Tome for Ms. McKendrick. Tonight at 12:15, Pierce Field in Grandview Heights.

Do not involve the police in any way. If I see even one policeman, Ms. McKendrick dies. If you arrive before midnight or after 12:30, Ms. McKendrick dies. These are non-negotiable. Please choose wisely.

Nicholae Stefanis

***

Nicholae- wasn't that the name of the Vlad Dracul book-buyer at the auction? Isaac had assumed it to be a fake name, so he'd never looked into it. Cocky villain.

Isaac called Mason back and had them meet him at the reporter's hotel. The hotel phone didn't answer, so we went up to the room. Isaac thought he might have to break the door in, but it was ajar. They swept in, guns drawn.

The place had been ransacked. Mason gave it a trained once-over, and pronounced it a setup. "These papers are very neatly scattered, and none of them have been stepped on or even ripped. She must have ransacked her own room or something."

We did find some real clues; an empty package addressed to "Nicholae Stefanis, Konopiste hrad, Konopiste, Czech Republic". The reporter's calendar noted interviews with the same, a couple of months ago; a flight was noted to Prague for a couple of days from now. The reporter was in on it with Stephanis. Nothing more to see here.

***

They regrouped at Daedalus' home. The director was absent himself, having travelled west with Bronagh and Cedric the day before on some investigation or other. Blast him.

"We have three hours. We can't get there early. What can we put together in three hours? We'll need the book, too. Where's Primrose?"

The elderly scholar tottered in. He decried the idea of taking the book to Stephanis. Isaac was fairly set, but the idea was proposed to take a fake instead. Primrose said he could provide a magical copy which might foil any inspection, for a couple of hours at least. He went to work on that.

We took stock of our resources. A couple hundred silver rounds siezed from the elf, and machine pistols to use them. Juan could provide some revolvers which would also fire those rounds. He had silver for his own M16, and a spare, which Wolfgang would take. Everyone got a revolver and a machine pistol, and several clips for each. We debated arranging some explosives, but time was moving on, and we didn't want to be late.

Around 11:30 we collected the fake book and as much ammo as we could carry, piled into the two vans and pulled onto the outerbelt, southbound for the meeting.

***

Pierce Field was easy to find. We parked the vans just off the road, on the south verge of a wooded plot, and nervously adjusted.

"We're not early, are we?" Tighten a strap.

"No." Flip open the revolver, eyeball the cylinders.

"Wish we had some night vision." Pocket a collapsable baton.

"Me too." Flip the revolver closed, goes in the jacket pocket.

"Maybe some white phosphorus, or just molotov cocktails..." Safety off on the M16.

"We have what we have. Let's get this over with."

They stalked through the woods toward the lit clearing ahead. A little park lay here, with a couple lights and a burbling fountain. Bound with duct tape by the fountain lay McKendrick. Isaac hustled in to cut her loose, the rest trained weapons outward, looking for trouble.

"You have the book? Lay it on the fountain." Stephanis wafted in from the trees, smiling to himself.

Isaac held up the book, then set it down as directed. "Here it is. We'll just be going now, you have your book, have a nice night."

"I think not. I've brought some friends for you. Some you know from earlier tonight. Others will be pleased to make your acquaintance." Stephanis sort of shuddered, then actually faded before our eyes, becoming as mist, and then, nothing. He was gone.

Glowing eyes looked in from the woods, and the five of us backed in towards each other as the hulking shapes stepped to the edge of the circle of light.

 

[DanMcS]

Eyes, eyes in the mist, glowing red eyes lurking between trees, in thu brush, eyes that would haunt our nightmares for months.

"I thought you said there were six of them."

"There were six of them. They brought friends."

Lots of friends. Two dozen and more of the creatures, in looming hybrid form, stalked forward out of the trees on all sides.

The dull chatter of a TEC-9 announced our intentions; Wolfgang saw two of the creatures bunched together as they walked towards us and took the opportunity.

After that things happened very rapidly. Juan acquitted himself well, laying down a deadly silver hail of fire from his M16 until that ran out. His long experience fighting the skin changers showed. He also popped a couple of tear gas grenades into the scrub- the wolf-men, with their heightened sense of smell, found this intolerable, and several fled. After that Juan was down to pistols.

Mason and Isaac tried to defend their rescuee, but she panicked and ran off into the woods. The creatures didn't follow, she apparently wasn't considered a threat, or a target.

Wolfgang did well, picking his shots and dropping the beasts methodically. Isaac, out in the open after trying to protect Jenny, was surrounded and mauled into unconsciousness. Mason and Wolf fought their way over to him and revived him with one of our carefully hoarded healing potions. Wolfgang grabbed the fake book. With Juan close behind, we fought our way into the woods, and down the path to our vans. Four more of the creatures waited there. The clips for the automatics were long gone, but with the last rounds in our revolvers we brought the last one down. We found Jenny cowering in the brush, and peeled out of the lot for home.

***

We dropped McKendrick off, admonishing her to avoid the police and just lay low for a while. She could call us if she needed us.

We headed for the manor. Isaac seethed. And where the hell had Daedalus taken off for, anyway?

 

[projectdaedalus]

Meanwhile in Chicago...

"Algie?" a female voice called out from across the bookstore.

Marcos, a Panamanian seemingly far out of his element in a Chicago used bookstore, was nose-deep in a second-edition Fahrenheit 451 and did not hear the woman until her second beckoning.

He mumbled something, put the book back in its protective sleeve, and brought it with him to the front of the store.

"Closing time already?" he asked Louise Alderman, owner of the store, who was working the register.

She had a strange look on her face. It was, after all, only 4 in the afternoon. "No, Algie. Someone is here to see you," she replied.

Marcos had not seen the two men in black Armani suits who were standing near enough to the front door to block it if need be. In front of these behemoths was a woman in her mid-thirties, with curly, shoulder-length black hair, wearing a nice navy blue suit. She had a certain look in her eye, as if her subject were a fine meal.

"You are Algie Marcos, I presume," she said coolly.

The Panamanian bowed his head a bit in deference to the beautiful lady. "Algernon Marcos, at your service."

Louise Alderman stepped away from the register, unsure of what exactly was going on, and made her way to the office, where she could see the front, but was not in direct contact with anything or anyone in the vicinity. She picked up the mobile phone from its cradle, and held her thumb on the Emergency button, ready to punch it and dial 9-1-1 if need be.

"Quite a find you've got there," the suited woman observed.

"Yes," Marcos replied. "I don't think they know it's a second edition," he whispered. "Priced at least $300 below what I can get for it on eBay."

"I'm sure you are quite proud, Mr. Marcos," she said. "But I am not here to talk about that book."

"No?" he asked.

"Not all all," she answered. "Another book. You might know it as the 'Black Book'. Does that ring any bells?"

Algie smiled. "Heh, well I do have a little black book," he joked. "I don't suppose it's really worth much." Marcos started to sweat a little. He was always nervous in front of a beautiful woman.

"Not quite," she replied. "You acquired it in 1998 or early 1999, perhaps from an English gentleman."

Algie paused a moment to think. "Eh, I think I might have bought something like that, yes," he said. "But I sold it, if I'm thinking of the same book."

"This black book," the lady asked, "did you ever open it or read it?"

"I tried, but I couldn't," Marcos said. "It was written in a very strange language. I did not know it."

"Latin is not so strange," the lady pointed out. "I'm sure a man of your scholarly aspirations knows Latin."

Marcos had been caught in a lie. "I didn't read it. Not really. Why?"

"It doesn't really matter," she said. The lady smiled and stepped closer to Marcos. "It's not possible that you would have been able to make any sense of it anyway. I can tell you didn't read it, Marcos. I just had to be sure."

Algie noticed that the lady was less than a foot away from him, and this excited him a little. "OK. So?"

Her eyes met his, and a red flash, imperceptible to others, startled Marcos, and sapped his will. "Tell me. What happened to this book?"

"I sold it," Marcos replied. "To a man in Rockford. A little northwest of here. Near the Wisconsin border."

"Very good," she said. The lady casually put her arm around Marcos' shoulder. "Let's go have a drink. My friends are buying. You can tell me more then."

Marcos left Alderman's without his second-edition Fahrenheit 451 in the company of the beautiful lady and her two hulking companions. Very strange indeed.

Louise Alderman wasn't sure what to make of this incident. She picked up the book, dusted it off a bit, repriced it, and put it back on the shelf where it belonged.

 

[projectdaedalus]

Meanwhile

"Fascinating," the lady in black replied. "Tell me, did he know anything about the Tome?"

She listened to the person on the other end of the phone conversation.

"That's too bad," she said. "I hope it wasn't too messy."

She pressed 'END' and put down her cell phone. Too quiet in here, I think, she realized. She heard something stirring outside her chamber. Perhaps a visitor...

The double doors opened to reveal Agrias the Black, along with someone else more familiar. "Agrias," she said, "I see you've brought along a friend."

Agrias smiled and ushered himself and the guest into the lady's vast chamber of darkness. It would be hard for mortals to see at all in this chamber, but this was not a problem for Agrias, his lady mistress, or his guest.

"I have traveled a long way," the guest began. "I would appreciate an update on the Tome."

The lady smiled and paused a moment. "Stefanis," she replied, "I'm surprised you don't already know. You are normally so well-connected."

"You can call me --" he began.

"Oh no," the lady interjected. "I'm keen to play the game if you don't mind."

"Very well," Stefanis responded. "In any event, the Tome is not in Chicago, but I have no further news. Daori and his group would like to have the Tome as soon as possible. I know you are well aware of this."

Agrias was not needed in this conversation, and was well aware that his presence might not be good for his health. He quietly slipped away and out of the room.

"Your agents did not find the Tome in Chicago," the lady began. "A book seller was questioned, but he revealed nothing of any immediate import, even under extreme duress."

"Go on."

"But after some special methods were used to extract information, the mortal said he sold the Black Tome to a Harold Myers in Rockford, a town that is believed to be near Chicago."

"I assume then that the agents have been dispatched to Rockford?" Stefanis asked.

"Indeed," the lady replied. "Though they have run into a problem. A mortal has opened and read the Tome."

"Impossible," Stefanis stated with indignity. "He would have been slain immediately."

"Our information is that he learned the art of necromancy from its pages," the lady continued. "This mortal even went so far as to create a minor army of zombies. Can you believe that?"

Nicholae Stefanis paused to consider these events. "Perhaps I should make an appearance to claim the Tome. Surely this mortal will not resist me."

"I'm not so sure about that," the lady replied. "Someone else is looking for the Black Tome of Naercis."

"Really?" Stefanis asked. "Most interesting..."

"Eric Daedalus," the lady said. "You know him?"

"No," Stefanis said. "Not him specifically, but his family and I have a... special relationship."

The lady in darkness said nothing, allowing Stefanis to continue.

"They hunted me, somewhat successfully, more than a decade ago, before I went to Arcadia. They are Knights Templar, and quite powerful. Worthy adversaries, to be sure."

"Why would Daedalus or his family be interested in the book?" the lady asked.

"Would you believe that the Daedalus family believes they can dispatch Arcadians who have come to Earth back to Arcadia and close the gate?"

The lady laughed in a rather sickening way, followed by a rumble of amusement from Stefanis.

"Close the gate?" the lady asked. "Incredible!"

Stefanis crossed the room and shot a concerned look at the lady in darkness.

"No doubt Daedalus' interest in the Black Tome is to destroy it, or perhaps to learn more about the Midnight Legion," the lady remarked.

"Yes," Stefanis replied. "We must act now to make sure he doesn't get the book. If he or other Knights Templar are involved, we cannot reply solely on our mortal agents. I will need to make an appearance."

"Very well," the lady said. "I will make the arrangements."

"By this time tomorrow evening, perhaps the Black Tome of Naercis will be in our hands once again," Stefanis said, stepping out of the lady's chamber and into the corridor.

The lady in darkness smiled and picked up her phone.

 

[DanMcS]

Session 10

So basically, we've been sitting around HQ, stewing. Daedalus hasn't called to check in, and his cell is off. So is Bronagh's. And Cedric couldn't operate a cell phone even if they had one sized for his big minotaur paws.

Primrose knows they went to Minneapolis. Has no idea why. He's been tutoring me a little in spells during all this free time, but isn't good for much real-world info.

So, we did the logical thing, and broke into Daedalus' office.

We found some notes, names and addresses mostly. A couple had the note 'ML' by them- Midnight Legion perhaps? Old boy couldn't give us a heads-up before he went to investigate evil cultists? Wait, here's a receipt for some shipping, he sent some stuff ahead with the "General Courier Service," to Jeremy Armour at a hotel in Minneapolis. Never heard of any of them.

Mason called their 800 number.

"Hello"

"Yeah, I'm calling about a package my boss shipped, I want to find out if it arrived. Name is Eric Daedalus."

<<click>>

"... the heck... They hung up on me, right after I told them who I worked for."

"Wierd," opined Isaac.

Out of the blue, Wolfgang had a good idea. "Maybe 'Armour' is the name you should ask for. Like Daedalus' alias."

"I'm not calling back. They hate me already."

"Let me." Isaac took the phone and hit redial.

"Hello."

"Don't hang up! I'm calling about a package you shipped to Minneapolis, to Jeremy Armour."

***

So, it turns out Daedalus owns a shipping company. Who knew? It's the one he has been using to ship stuff quietly around the country, and makes him a little money on the side. They had a room number for him in Minneapolis, and said the stuff had been delivered, but didn't know much else. We tried calling that room, but no one answered. Figures. Looks like we're headed to Minnesota.

 

[DanMcS]

After that whole werewolf fiasco we've taken to having our gear handy at all times. Not getting caught napping again, no sir, not us. So it was fairly simple to grab everything, toss it in the van, and go. We told Dumbledore to call ahead and get us a room in the same hotel, and we'd check in periodically. I don't remember ever actually checking in with him, but we told him we would to make him feel better.

***

A cutaway later, and we pulled into the hotel in Minneapolis. Holiday Inn, only the best for our boss. We checked into our room, dropped off our bags, and went to check out Daedalus' room. It's gotten so that breaking into it barely bothered us anymore.

Nobody there- no big surprise. They left a keycard, so we can get back in here if we need to. Found Daedalus' laptop, and a bag we assumed was Bronagh's- it had some snips, screwdrivers, and a pound of high explosives in a little plastic baggie. We miss that girl.

After a little work, I got the laptop to boot off a disk and poked around the hard drive. Almost everything was encrypted. Bugger. We did find a note about the Brimstone Club that all these ML types belonged to, apparently. That name didn't conjure visions of happy fluffy kittens. You'd think these evil types would learn. If they called it the 'Minneapolis Philatelic Society' nobody would ever investigate their boring asses, and they could get away with all the evil they wanted.

We got the local paper and headed into town to investigate the cheerful bunnies.

***

Apparently (coincidence? I think not!) the Evil Ones had their big annual celebration (an annual ceremony? by an evil cult? you don't say!) coming up in a couple days. The Founder's Ball. From what we could tell, everyone who was anyone in town was a member, and they were all wealthy, secretive, and gave heavily to charities. It all screamed evil to us. They probably had Eric, Bronagh, and Cedric locked in their compound, ready to sacrifice at midnight at the Founder's Ball to whatever demon provided them all with this unnatural prosperity. Today was the fifth, the party was the ninth, so we had a couple of days to break in there.

Did I mention they had a compound? This big, old, mansion-looking building near the center of town. Wrought-iron fence around the whole thing, private limosine fleet, armed guards, security cameras, the whole nine yards. Probably an evil summoning circle or altar or something in there somewhere.

According to the paper, there had been a bear attack outside the front gate a couple of days ago. Police and animal control were called, but they never found it.

We walked uptown to check out this place. No way we were getting in there. Mason and Isaac conferred over a street map, and Wolfgang wandered off to get the lay of the land. He saw a young kid checking us out. The kid spotted Wolf, and took off. Wolfgang, logically, chased him. He yelled into his radio, "I'm chasing the kid!" We, of course, had no idea what he was talking about, but we saw him running down the street a hundred yards away, and took off after him.

The kid turned the corner into an alley. All the signals screamed "Danger, danger!" Wolfgang ignored them, and ran right after him. He pulled up face to face with a nervous, cornered kid pointing a gun straight into his face. "Whoa."

 

[DanMcS]

Wolfgang raised his hands and adopted an innocent look. He hoped. "Hey there, just calm down, I just wanted to talk to you." The barrel of the gun sure looked a lot bigger from this end.

"Back off, man. You a cop? Why were you chasing me?"

Wolfgang shook his head. "No, not a cop. Listen, just point the gun down, ok?" The kid glanced behind Wolfgang for a second, to see a couple more guys come skidding around the corner. Wolfgang took his chance.

He spun sideways to avoid the shot, as his hand shot out and snatched the gun right out of the kid's grip. He tried to play it off cool, yeah, I do this every day, but his adrenaline was surging and his hand kind of kept shaking as he dropped the clip out of the gun and jacked back the slide to eject the round.

The kid was unphased. "Gimme that back."

"Or what, you'll scowl at me?" No answer. "Listen, are you around here a lot? Did you see the bear attack at that mansion a couple of days ago?" No answer. "Come on, kid, help me out, I'll give you your gun back."

Scowl. "Wierdest bear I ever saw. Had horns. Buncha guys came running out of there, with guns and swords, like. They shot the bear, and it ran off."

"Do you know where it went?"

"Naw, but one of the guys I was with might know."

"Can we speak to him?"

The kid looked at us dubiously. "Suppose so. They're over at the basketball court by the park. You know it?"

Isaac and Mason were listening behind Wolfgang. "Take us there, kid, we'll give you 50 bucks."

***

Caruthers took us to visit his friends. They were at the basketball court, all right, but weren't playing ball. We didn't inquire too closely as to their line of business.

Their leader eyed us as we strolled in with Caruthers. "What can I do for you?"

"We heard you might have been around the Brimstone Club the day of the bear attack."

"I might have. Didn't have anything to do with that though."

"We know. We're interested in the bear. Did you see where it went?"

"Sure did. Broke into this old house down an alley back there. Never saw it come out either."

"Can you have someone show us? I'm sure you're a very busy man, but it would really help us out."

"Now why should I do that?" The gang leader's cell phone rang. "Yeah? Damn. OK." He hung up. "We have some company coming, you better clear out of here." He promptly ignored us and started issuing orders to the guys standing around.

Caruthers looked worried. Mason asked him, "What's going on?"

"Another crew coming in, they're after us for some reason. Gimme back my gun, man." Mason thought about it, then handed it back. We all headed toward the far end of the court, where there was an exit.

6 or 8 guys came in the far side, heading towards the gang we'd been talking to. Both sides whipped out their guns and started firing wildly. Neither side were good shots at all, ducking and running while trying to shoot, but it looked like the visitors were pulling ahead.

"We need this guy's help to find Cedric."
"I don't really want to get in a gang fight."
"We're already IN it, and we're the only ones not shooting."

Isaac and Wolfgang drew, and fired a couple of shots towards the rival gang. We might have even hit some of them, though the range was pretty long. This new attack on their flank shook them, and they took off pretty quick.

"I guess you guys are all right. I'll have the kid here take you down to the house, he knows which one I mean. You all need anything else?"

"Um, do you happen to know anyone who's good with documents?"

***

The kid hung out on the sidewalk watching out for us while Isaac, Mason, and Wolfgang ascended the rickety stairs. The door had been broken in during some long-forgotten police raid, and stood propped against the wall. It was dark inside, but we could just make out dried brown stains on the floor. Mason said they were fairly recent.

We clicked on our flashlights and crept inside. Isaac peeled off to check a room on the left, and Mason stood in the hall keeping an eye on the door. The floorboards creaked and groaned.

They weren't the only thing. Wolfgang rounded the corner and heard groaning, or growling. He pulled his pistol, and whispered, "Cedric?" He danced the flashlight beam around the walls every which way, and caught a glimpse of something looming in the doorway across the room. Big, reflective eyes.

***

Wolfgang's bloodcurdling shriek came back around the corner; Mason and Isaac sprinted around the corner, guns drawn.

 

[DanMcS]

Wolfgang froze still, pointing his flashlight and pistol at the beast. It tossed it's shaggy head and growled low in its throat. It sniffed at him.

"Rrrr?"

"Hey there, Cedric, it's me, Wolfgang. Looks like you're bleeding there. You recognize me, right?"

***

Cedric told us he had gone with Daedalus and Bronagh to break into the Brimstone mansion. Daedalus had done something, a spell we surmised, to disguise Cedric. They got to the door, but then the doorman looked right at Cedric and raised an alarm. Armed gunmen came running, and a few people that looked like they were wearing armor, and carrying swords. Cedric ripped up a couple of the guards but had to retreat, and he didn't know what happened to the other two.

Isaac gave the kid his $50 and got his cell number so we could get ahold of him later. He told us his boss might be able to help us out.

We decided to stash Cedric in our hotel room. Wolfgang and Mason doubletimed it a couple of blocks back to the hotel and Isaac stayed with Cedric. We wrapped him in a blanket and hustled him into the back of the van, then up the back stairs to the hotel room. We gave him one of our last few healing potions and left him in bed watching cartoons.

***

The little plastic sign twisted and swung on the doorknob to the room, proclaming DO NOT DISTURB.

***

We headed back downtown. Minneapolis apparently had a network of pedestrian tunnels for use in winter. The Brimstone Club building lay overtop of one, so we went down to scope it out.

Bad men love tunnels, right? Apparently these did, at least. Right underneath the Club, as far as we could tell, there was a big arch cut in the wall of the tunnel. It was bricked up, though. Very wierd. We tapped on it and poked around, but the only way we were getting through this thing was with a jackhammer.

***

We sat in our van across the street from the Club. "What are we going to do now? That place is locked up tighter than Fort Knox."

As if in answer, the driveway gate of the Club opened, and one of the fleet limosines pulled out onto the street and accellerated smoothly away. "Follow it!"

We trailed the limo all the way to the airport, then watched as it picked someone up. It was getting dark now and we closed in a little to make sure we didn't lose it. The limo turned off the freeway well before downtown, into a suburb. We twisted through several side streets then watched in defeat as it pulled into a gated community. Mason pulled into a small lot and threw the van into park.

We jumped out, ran over, and fairly vaulted the fence beside the road.

"They're dropping someone off, right? We just wait for the limo to come back."

"And then?"

"We jump out in front of it and make them stop."

"And then?"

"We, um, force the driver to tell us who they dropped off, where, and all about the evil Founder's Ball?"

"Dude, you're an idiot."

"Hssst, here comes the limo, shut up and get down."

We hid in the bushes and watched as our elusive quarry rolled right by, out the gate, and into the night.

***

They'd only been gone a couple of minutes. We used Mason's cell to check nearby addresses and found a member of the Brimstone Club who lived here. Hugh Vasilauskas, elderly gent, founder of some big company, wealthy, international traveller, the whole 'evil mastermind' package. We stood across the street from his front gate.

"Wanna go in?"

"You go right ahead. I'll see you later."

"Come on. We can get in there no problem. He's an old guy, he's probably asleep already."

The front gate had two mounted cameras and a call box. We checked it out, decided our chances of knocking out the cameras with a rock were pretty slim, and were about to go, when the call box crackled.
"Are you gentlemen going to debate all night, or are you going to come in for a drink?"

 

[DanMcS]

The gate rolled open with a whirring of a motor. A uniformed guy pulled up in a golf cart and looked at us expectantly. We shrugged, and got on board.

The house was even bigger than it looked from the road. Hugh was waiting for us on the front steps. He led the way in the door and around the corner to a sitting room. "What can I do for you gentlemen?"

"Ah, um, we're reporters, yeah, that's right, for the, er, AP."

"Really?" A raised eyebrow. "Would you like that drink?"

"Water?" Isaac ventured.
"Water's good." Mason agreed.
"Got any scotch?" A brave lad, Wolfgang.

"Indeed." This guy was so cheerful, it was creepy. We'd been out sneaking around his property, and here he was treating us like invited guests. "And what are you reporting on?"

"Vasco Industries." "The Brimstone Club."

"Perhaps I'll just give you a moment to get your stories straight."

"Yeah, thanks." The old guy stepped out.

"What are we doing here?"
"We got invited in."
"SO?! This guy's insane. We've got to bail."
"Maybe we can trick some info out of him."
"Like what? How to cook our brains?"
"Ask him about the Founder's Ball."
"Shh, he's coming back."

"You all sure what you're doing here now?"

"Yes, sir. We're reporting on the Founder's Ball, and were doing a sidebar on some of the members of the club. You, for instance. What can you tell us about the Ball?"

"Oh, it's a yearly thing, we bring in the media like yourself, local luminaries, all the members of course, have a big dinner and dance. Good PR, all that. You are attending, yes?"

"Sure thing. And what does the Brimstone Club, itself, do, the rest of the year I mean?"

"It's a social type club. Charity events, dinners, insider trading advice... I'm kidding of course. We do lunches, not dinners."

"Ah, heh, heh, yes, very amusing."

"I'm really not very involved with the day-to-day events of the club, being gone so much."

"Yes, well, that's all we needed for our, um, background, we'll just be going now."

"Certainly. One of my men will show you out. See you at the ball."

***

"That guy was entirely too helpful. Something's not right there."

"Well, we got out alive. Any meeting you walk away from is a good one, I always say."

"No you don't."

"I'm gonna start."

"We've got to pick up our credentials and invite tomorrow."

"I hope the forgers do a good job."

***

Isaac, dealing in books for a couple of years now, had some passing familiarity with the art of creating documents, and decided the reporter's badges and invitation would pass any but the most serious inspection. Hopefully we could avoid that, or our stay at the dinner party would be short.